


Walk in the Woods

by rororat



Series: Bestial Beginnings [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AH BT AU, AH Beast Tamers AU, AU, Joelay if you want to squint at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:12:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rororat/pseuds/rororat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running has never been so beneficial for Ray...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second work in what I am planning to be a 6 part series (as of now). I'm hoping to write how each of the main six achievement hunters met their bonded in Hailcakes's Beast Tamer AU. All the comments I got on the last one is what really pushed me to write this, so I'd love to hear what you think about this one. 
> 
> After the six achievement hunters, I may write stories for B-team, or one big story with a plot, maybe even chapters! But right now, my goal is six. Although, chapters are tempting.
> 
> Hailcakes's Au, not mine: http://hailcakes.tumblr.com/tagged/ah-beast-tamer-au

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This is not how the legal system is suppose to work!

Ray let out a series of strained huffs as he tried to breath, sprinting down a winding trail long ago consumed by the roots of trees and the branches of thorn bushes. Ray could feel the blood trickle from fresh cuts along his leg, but he could pay no attention to those minor injuries. Any halter in his pace could lead to his demise. The thought of him on his knees and his head falling into a woven basket kept him going despite his exhaustion.

Shouldn't there be some trial? Something more than, ‘Oh look, there's a dead man, and you're the only one alive. Oh? You have a knife because you just returned from gathering in the forest? That's cool and all, but pretty sure you killed this dude… So if it's cool and all, we’re gonna kill you now. Sound good?’.

In a village like the small one Ray lived in, the natural law of an eye for an eye was strongly enforced. And as Ray had recently learned, natural law seemed to be the only law in his small town, as no law or justice wanted to aid an innocent man.

Ray had been so developed in his thoughts, he had let his feet just carry him forward. Jumping over large roots, and turning down windier paths, that many of the guards from his town would struggle to keep up with him on.

In Ray’s village, he was well known, but not always in a positive light. He had managed to disappoint and embarrass his small family at the ripe age of seventeen by failing not only to find a wife like how traditions imposed on him, but also unable to properly bond with an animal as tradition further requested.

The topic of bonding was one Ray had often encountered with family members, but never enjoyed; 

‘Why is it, a young man like yourself, so agile and resourceful, has yet to bond with an animal? Do you not want to bond with one? Or do you purposely aim to disappoint you mother and bring shame to the family?’ 

‘It’s none of those mom.’ Ray recalled arguing with her, ‘It's just I haven't really seen any animals. Everyone of them near town is already bonded.’ 

‘Then why not venture to the woods? Most boys have the main paths memorized by now at your age.’

‘The woods are outdoor mom-’ 

‘Yes, that's why we call them the woods, rather than the living room.’ 

‘But outside is a scary place.’ 

‘Ray Narvaez Jr.! Do not try and argue with me and tell me you are afraid of the outdoors! Everyday you venture down to the town square to visit with that foreign boy, Dan. Why you spend so much time with him, I’ll never know.’ 

‘Yeah, well, the town square isn't really outdoors-outdoors. Also, I got Dan the Man to protect me. Just trying to be safe is all mom. I mean, yolo right?’ 

‘Yolo?’ 

‘Yeah, you only live once, so… I’d like to continue living if that good with you.’

Ray quickly chased away the memory from his mind as he entered a large clearing among the dense trees that had given him cover during his long trek.

From the raised earth he stood on at the forest's limit, Ray could see a small homestead no more than a few leagues away. What’s a cabin like this doing so far from town? Ray didn't have long to ponder on this thought, as the snapping of branches alerted him of followers from behind.

Several of the guards from his home town, who had given chase, had manage to catch up to him. Ray could hear the barking of several large dogs, and the screeches of birds also giving chase, aiding their bonded in the pursuit of catching Ray.

Being spotted in the clearing would be a fatal move for Ray, but he couldn't see any more trails among the trees that lead away from his pursuers. Opting out of forging his own path and getting tripped up by roots and uneven ground, Ray made a mad dash towards the cottage that sat on the lower grounds of the clearing.

Ray could feel his heart pounding away in his ears as what he assumed to be several people enter the clearing with the final snap of several tree limbs from behind him. I’m not that far. Just don't stop running. Almost there…

Ray skidded around the corner of the small cottage, and wrenched open the front door, slamming it shut once more behind him. With his back planted firmly against the shuddering wooden door, Ray slowly slid down to sit on the worn birch floor. Keeping his ears peeled for any more sounds of his pursuers, Ray tried to maintain and calm the ragged breaths that left his lungs.

“Well, a knock would have been welcomed…”

Ray’s eyes shot up, as a man with slicked back brown hair poked his head around a wall. The man was not all too intimidating, only wielding a spatula and wearing a daisy patterned apron that hung loosely off of his lengthy build.

Of course. No way in hell would I have been lucky enough to find an abandoned home with an unlocked door…

“Uhh…”

“Open up!” A man yelled, accompanied by banging on the door Ray still was laying against. “We are on the search for a criminal, a man who has murdered another in cold blood. If you surrender, the punishment will be less severe.” 

Oh, utter bull shit.

The man who stood before Ray merely raised an eyebrow in thought. “Don’t just sit there blocking my door,” He whispered, “move away from it, and go sit somewhere away from the windows. Crouch under the table, or hide behind the couch. Sit on the toilet for all I fucking care, just move. Unless you would like to greet these nice gentlemen.”

Befuddled, Ray quickly rose to his feet, making a dash behind the man as he began to approached the door. Ray ran into the kitchen, crouching next to a barrel away from view of the front room, tucking in as tightly as he could.

From behind the barrel Ray could hear the owner of the house open the front door with a warm greeting.

“Why hello Gentleman! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We are tracking a man responsible of murder, we believe him to have traveled to your cottage to seek refuge.” One of the men outside the house commented.

“Well, I haven’t seen any men in these parts besides yourselves.”

“Don’t bullshit us, Mr. Heyman.” A new voice interjected.

“Bullshit? Why would I do such a thing as that.”

“We know your record, Heyman. And it ain't too pretty.” The second voice commented again.

“Ah yes, but records are part of the past, it's best not to dwell too much on them. And besides, all accounts have been amended. So if you could refrain from dwindling on them, Mr. Sorola, I would much appreciate it.”

“You haven’t amended shit, Heyman.” The man Ray now believed to be Sorola replied, “The of allegiance is nothing but false promises when there is no actions to back them up.”

“I promise you, just like how I promised the royal family, if and when the the kingdom falls into times of war, I will aid the Haywood family and fight in battle to further make my amends.”

“You better hold to it then, the Haywood family does not take well to criminals, and especially not to liars.”

“I will hold to it. Now, as much of a joy it is to talk to you and your men, I believe you have a criminal to find. And talking with you has almost certainly given them ample time to gain ground.”

“I don’t need your criticism Heyman. Come on men, leave this traitor to his own doings. Justice may have missed this rat, but we wont let another escape our grasp.” And with that, the sound of foot steps traveling away and the shutting of a door could be heard.

Ray let out a breath he had been unaware of holding, as his shoulders slumped down in relief.

Hearing Heyman and Sorola’s talk had left Ray with a slight feeling of guilt. Many of the matters discussed where none of his business and rather personal. But he had no choice, so Ray set aside the guilt and rather focused on how this man had aided him, and the gratitude he had for him.

Ray began to rise to his feet, to properly greet his savior and hopefully explain to him that he was no criminal like the guards had claimed. However, before he could make it out of his corner next the barrel, a large black wolf had sniffed him out and had its muzzle dangerously close to Ray's neck.

“So, a criminal they say…” Heyman said, looking down at Ray as he strides in through the doorway. The large beast had begun to snarl, edging even closer to Ray’s vulnerable neck as Heyman drew closer.

“A criminal? Probably somewhere along the way. But a cold blooded murder as Sarulea-”

“Sorola. Gustavo ‘Gus’ Sorola. Biggest ass in all of the Haywood family’s royal guards.” Heyman commented, rolling his eyes at the mention of the royal family.

“Sorola. Nothing like how Sorola put it.”

“Okay then…” Heyman said, beginning to stride away from Ray. The wolf was no longer snarling, and had backed down enough to look Ray in the eyes, but had yet to break that eye contact with him.

“So if it's not how Gus put it. Just how did it go?” Heyman prompted.

“Well I’d love to tell you, but it might be easier if I wasn't stuck between a angered beast and a hard place.” Ray retorted snarkily.

“Well, I’d love to make it easier for you to tell your story. But I’d rather have a possible murderer at a disadvantage if his story doesn't hold true.”

“Fair enough.” Ray complied. “The guards did find me in my home," he began, "and there was a dead guy, and there was blood on my hands-”

“You're not making yourself any more innocent you know.”

“Just getting the facts out of the way is all. But the guy was a goner before I got to him. I found him in the forest. I was looking for plants and greens and such for my, my uh-”

“Lets go with herb garden, shall we?” Heyman supplied, guessing by Ray's uncertainty that the topic was not a legal one.

“Yeah. Herb gardens are accepted practices right? Well, I was looking for things such as 'rosemary' and 'parsley' growing off of a cliff side or out of logs, to cook with… and I found the man. I don’t know what fucked him up so bad, but he was bleeding profusely. So I dragged him back to my place, and tried to use some of my ‘herbs’ to help him. But he was too battered up. After he died, that's when the guards showed up. I would have been fine for a sentence for the ‘herbs’ but nope. Went straight to blaming me for the guys murder. I mean, I tried to save him! And now they're trying to end me.”

After Ray had finished, Heyman merely stared at him. No comments, no response. Just a blank stare. Ray arched an eyebrow at him, silently prompting him to speak his thoughts.

“Seems like the legal system around here has a thing about wanting to kill innocent men.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing of worry for now. I guess if you're wanted, you don't have another place to go, do you?”

“Oh,” Ray said, surprised in the direction the conversation had turned, “no, not really.”

“Well you do now.”

“What?”

“I was in a similar place as you at one point...” Heyman paused, waiting for a name.

“Ray.”

“Ray, if someone would have lent me a hand when I was in a similar position, it would have been a godsend. So here, I’m lending a hand.” He finished, outstretching his hand to Ray.

Ray took the offered hand, watching weary of the wolf, still intently watching him. Ray had begun to assume it was the man's bonded, as white marking could be seen streaming up the two front paws.

“Don’t mind Taylor. She should get use to you shortly. She’s just wary is all. Tell me, do you have a bonded tagging along with you?”

“Uh, no…” Ray said, “Never really encountered many animals back at home.”

“Well if you're going to be staying with me, you are sure to encounter plenty of animals. Come on now, the nearest village is roughly a day's walk, and if it only midday and you were able to maneuver through the trails on foot, I’d have to assume you ran an awful lot to get here.

Ray nodded to this, his mind finally taking notice of just how heavy his limbs and eyelids had become.

“I have a spare room, it can be yours for now.”

Ray could only give a nod and a yawn as he was lead to the spare room. 

The room was small, but well outfitted. A small bed with red bedding sat on the far left. A window shedding in sunlight on the room to the right of it. A small worn desk and chair also sat comfortably in the room. Along with a wardrobe, that Ray was unsure the contents of, also sat among the oaken furniture.

Ray could pay no mind to the contents of his room any further, as he walked to the bed and collapsed upon the bedding.

Within moments, the curtains over the window had been drawn, the creek of the door sliding closed alerted Ray that Heyman had left. And within seconds, Ray was out like a light.

~.~.~.~

In the upcoming months, Ray found himself enjoying the company of Mr. Heyman, or Joel as he was informed to call him, more and more.

The two just fit well together, and everyday Ray could feel them growing closer and closer together. Everything from knowing when one was troubled, to nicknames, (Ray was rather fond of J-roll, himself. As Joel found himself using Brownman more and more.).

After several months of prodding, Ray had learned of Joel’s past troubles with the law. He had been framed for an attempted murder on a noble man. Joel denied any acts, and Ray had no trouble in believing this. Joel was too nice, and too loyal to ever attempt something to this caliber.

He was hunted for months until a friend of his, Adam, was able to clear his name. However, uncertainty remained, and Joel had further pledged his allegiance to the kingdom. Vowing to enter any war the moment it started, despite how dangerous it could be, in hopes to calm the the feud between him and the royal family.

Joel had also confined in Ray that before his unofficial exile to the forest, he had been friends with many noble men, despite his lower class stature, and still kept on good terms with a few of them. Joel would leave for several days to go and visit some of these men. Two of them Joel constantly talked about had been Burnie and Matt. And recently, a Geoff he'd begun to be mention. Apparently from a neighboring kingdom, but out looking for a change of pace.

Joel’s framing of attempted murder had earned him a un-justful sentence to death, and for week he hid among the forest and the neighboring mountain range. The mountains were a tiresome three day trek from their current location. It was in those mountains that Joel had met Taylor, his bonded.

She was a powerful black wolf, with piercing blue eyes unlike any Ray had ever seen. Joel said when he had found her, she had a severely injured leg, and he often had to carry her from place to place. She had leapt at Joel in fear of the trespasser, and pushed him to the ground, albeit clumsily, having used her injured paw to propel herself. What could have been a fatal blow for Joel, had missed. Not only saving his life, but also earning him the first friend that didn't look at him as a traitor in a long time.

Taylor had swirls that imitated smoke that crawled up her front two legs, where she had leapt at Joel. Joel had a similar marking across his chest, where she had pushed him.

After the first week of Ray moving in, Taylor had stopped looking at Ray as if he was to be her next meal, but rather as a guest within her territory. And shortly after that, one of the pack.

Ray had once again begun to gather and grow his ‘herbs’, as him and Joel both jokingly spoke of them. These regiments were used to brew and infuse charms and enchantments into many common items. A practice long ago forbidden in their current kingdom, but well practiced in other regions. 

It was through this practice that he had met a Gavin Free, who often traveled the woods in order to purchase or trade for the plants. Ray looked forward to his visits, because with him he would bring news of the sourly ding towns, and would tell of friends he knew back in his home village.

Ray had learned this form of herbology from a traveler passing through his town at a young age, and he had gone on to improve his skills.

The three - Ray, Joel, and Taylor - had made a harmony in the forest.

However, almost daily, Joel had constantly informed Ray that should he ever not be in the cottage with him, and anyone were to arrive, he should run. Run and hide away, only returning when those trespassing had left. Ray begrudgingly agreed, constantly aware that as far as the kingdom was concerned, he was still a wanted man.

It had been nearly a year since Ray had moved in with Joel. Late in the night, a knock banged on the front door. Ray had been dozing off in an armchair not far from the door, when a guard abruptly knocked down the door.

“Joel Heyman, the time to serve the kingdom and prove your innocence has come.” A man Ray recognized from his voice as Gus yelled into the house.

Joel had warned Ray that the kingdom was being threatened, and this may happen soon. But it had just started to settle once again. Gus should not be here requesting Joel for war. There should be no war, no, not yet.

Joel walked into the main room, Taylor at his heels. He had on a rugged leather tunic painted black like Taylor’s pelt on.

Joel froze when he caught sight of Ray, trying to shield himself behind the blanket.

Gus only took notice of Ray when a small gasp escaped Joel lips.

“You! The one who got away, nearly a year ago! You’d thought I’d forget? Well I never forget!” Gus said, turning to face Ray, a wicked grin etched into his face.

“Run.” Joel nearly whispered. “Run!”

Ray was already up from the chair, and sprinting to the door. Nearly missing Gus’s grasp as he made it through the still open door way. 

Too dark to see, Ray blindly sprinted for the forest line, entering through the thickest of the branches.

“You son of a BITCH!” Gus’s voice echoed. “I knew you were a FUCKING TRAITOR!”

Ray didn't hear the rest of the dispute except for the shattering of something glass. Ray continued to sprint and leap over tangling roots and fallen tree limbs further into the woods.

Only after several long minutes of sprinting did Ray allow himself to look behind him. He had not heard any pursuers following him. All he could hear was the beating of his heart and the snapping of branches underneath his feet.

As Ray turned his head to look behind him, he continued running onward, not letting up in his speed. Only halting when he slammed into a hulking mass, effectively stopping him, as his arms wrapped round it from the force of his speed.

Fucking tree. Ray thought, as he tried to rectify his breathing from having the air forcefully drawn out from his lungs.

When Ray looked to the offending ‘tree’, a small gasp of awe rushed past his parted lips.

Before him stood a tall and intimidating White stag, nearly gleaming in the low light of the night. But what shocked Ray the most was the white tattoo of swirls that wiggled across the front of the stag’s chest. Still growing out in size. Ray looked down at his arms and saw matching swirls spreading along the inside of them, where he had wrapped his arms around the stag's chest.

After the moment of awestruck, Ray recalled his current predicament. He was suppose to be running, not sitting here staring at a large deer. “Aww, fuck. I got to go. Uh… I don’t know what to call you. Am I supposed to name you? I don’t fucking know. Just, come on let's go.” And with that, Ray lead the way as the giant stag followed closely behind him through the thicket.

After deeming the distance Ray had fled from the homestead, and hearing no one trailing him other than the stag - Seriously, am I supposed to name this fucking thing? Does it have a name? Or is it suppose to like come to me? I don't fucking know. - Ray stopped to rest for the night. Ray curled up next to the stag that night, securely wrapped up beside it, as he slept away the night.

And then the next night.

And the night after that.

And several more after that.

After forging off of berries Ray could find for nearly a week, he finally decided it was worth the risk to travel back to the house in search of proper food. After several hours of trying to recall the path he had used, ultimately being lead there by the stag - How did he know where it was? - did Ray finally return to the house.

Inside the house, no light shined, Joel having left a week ago. It appeared like some struggle had occurred, which Ray could not understand. J-roll wouldn't struggle, he willingly agreed to go. Bet Gus threw some shit in anger. 

Ray spent several sleepless nights in the house. Eating and sharing what little food remained with the still nameless stag. It wasn't until nearly a week had passed did anyone visit Ray.

Ray had been sitting in the same chair Gus had found him in, when a pitiful whine came from the front door. Ray jumped at the noise, and quickly rose to open the door. 

Collapsing on the front doorsteps was Taylor. Her muzzle just breaking through the threshold. Ray attempted to drag her inside, and out of the dark of the night. Her fur was matted, and her body was wracked with shivers and chills. 

Ray managed to pull her towards the fire pit, and light a pathetic fire in hopes to warm her. Ray ran to the kitchen, fetching anything to feed her and water for her. When he returned, she laid on her side, only evidence of her sleeping was the small rise and fall of her chest.

It was then that Ray saw her paws. The once gleaming white of the smokey tattoos was now a dreary black.

No. No, no, no. The bond tattoos don't do that, unless one end of the bond has fallen. Hot tears began to bead up at the corners of Ray’s eyes. And the bond, cannot survive with only half. The other bond almost always dies… 

Joel’s dead, and Taylor's next.

By now, tears had begun to fall freely from Ray’s eyes. Ray’s stag had now come to comfort him, nudging at his back, as Ray began to cry and sob into the still lying wolf.

~.~.~.~

For several days, Ray sat beside Taylor. Her health steadily declining. Ray would bring her the remains of the food store - her eating less and less every day - giving the other portion to his stag. Himself option out on eating.

By the fourth day, every breath Taylor drew took so much from her, Ray could tell that any breath could be her last.

Ray was such a wreck, he barely noticed the door creak open on protesting hinges.

“Oh-” A man’s voice said, a cough wracking through his dry throat, “I didn't expect anyone here.”

Ray didn't respond. His only thoughts being Joel’s warning to run at the intrusion of anyone if he was not there.

But he wasn't here. He’d never be. And Ray just couldn't bring himself to run, not when the only one who wanted him alive, was no longer alive himself. And the last two creatures that cared at all for him were beside him, one comforting him, and the other still dying before him.

“Are you, I mean, were you a friend of Joel's?”

Ray nodded at that. Fresh tears beginning to glisten in his eyes. Ray kept his back to the man so he could not see Ray’s weakness at the mention of Joel’s name.

“I uh, I don't know if your aware, but hes… Hes no longer with us.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Ray replied, sadness seeping into every word.

“I fought alongside him in battle. I’m Burnie. Um he… he and my bonded, they both passed in the battle… needless tragedies. Is that by chance, Taylor?” Burnie asked, most likely nodding to the black mass of matted fur.

“Yeah, that's Taylor. But for how much longer, I’m not too sure.”

“I see, losing the other half of her bond is killing her too. I was actually looking for her. If she is willing to, a pack could be made. You know, so two more needless casualties can be avoided?”

“A pack?” Ray asked, no longer hiding the small sobs and hiccups that shook Ray’s small frame.

“Yeah, a way for two halves of a broken bond to survive. It’s not as strong as a bond, but it's strong enough to keep both parties alive. Kind of a comfort to, cause both ends have suffered, and can then have someone to relate to.”

“And you’d be willing to do this?” Ray asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Burnie said, joining ray on the ground next to the weak Taylor.

Looking to Ray for confirmation, Ray gave a small nod. Burnie reached out, and took hold of Taylor’s paw. Taylor’s breathing grew, more and more strained in the few seconds they sat there. Ray wanted to ask what was happening, but did not want to risk any chance of Taylor being saved. A voice in Ray’s head kept telling him J-roll would have wanted Taylor to go on, if he couldn't.

After several more excruciating seconds, Taylor weakly opened her eyes, for the first time in what must have been days. Her once piercing blue eyes looked sullen and deluged in the light of the fire before her. She looked to Burnie, then to Ray, and once more to Burnie, before gingerly bending down and licking Burnie’s hand.

“I think she’s going to be alright.” Burnie said, another cough shaking through him as he bent over to scoop up Taylor into his arms. He staggered a bit at the weight of her, despite her being no more than skin and bones at this point. “Are you going to be alright, uh…”

“Its, Ray.”

“Well Ray, are you going to be alright? If so, I can take Taylor to the kingdom and get her some well needed medical treatment.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“I take it, that's your bonded over there?” Burnie asked, nodding his head to the stag still resting on the ground, watching from a few feet away.

“Yeah, he's my bonded.”

“Does he have a name?”

“J-roll.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Questions? Found a mistake? Like this one or the other one better? Let me know! Criticism helps me to improve, and compliments drive me to write more.


End file.
